Her words are like a knife through my heart. I can’t speak. I’m too choked up by the truth my little girl is dropping in my lap.
She pushes harder against my cheeks, smooshing my face together until my lips pucker. “Mommy won’t be mad, Daddy. She wants you happy. It’s time for you to get back out there.”
This kid. Where does she come up with this stuff? Even though my eyes are filling with tears, I can’t stop myself from laughing.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Auntie Nee. She said you need to get back in the saddle and ride that horse. I don’t know what a horse has to do with anything.” Tate lifts her tiny palms up near her shoulders and shrugs. “I mean, I don’t know where we’d put one, but I’ve always wanted a pony, Daddy.”
Thanks, Daphne.
“Oh, sweetheart.” I don’t have the heart to tell her Daphne wasn’t actually talking about a horse. Sometimes my family forgets that although the children are small, they’re soaking up every word they say and filing it away in their heads.
She moves her face closer. “I’m serious, Daddy.”
God, how I love these moments with her. I know soon enough she’ll grow up and will barely look at me. But right now, she stares at me with those big blue eyes, the same ones Marissa had, tugging on my heart.
“Okay, Tate. I’ll see what I can do.”
She places her tiny, wet lips on mine as she pulls my face to hers. “You made me happy,” she whispers as she peers into my eyes.
There’s nothing in the world I want more than for my kids to be happy. They’re the reason I’m still breathing and not buried beside my wife.
I don’t think I could’ve survived losing her without my children. I most certainly wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed, or else I would’ve ended up an alcoholic, drowning my sorrow in the bottom of a bottle so I wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore.
Tate pulls away with her lips still puckered and covered in spit…hers, not mine. She’s the sloppiest kisser ever. I pray to God she stays that way, so the boys don’t start pounding down the door in a decade.
“I’m tired.” She yawns and is superdramatic about it. She stretches her arms and practically shakes in my lap. “Tuck me in.”
“Already? It’s early, baby.”
She slides down my leg until her sock-covered feet touch the floor. “Come on.” She tugs at my arm.
Tate loves her sleep. If I let her, she’d stay in bed half the day. She definitely didn’t get that trait from me.
“What jammies are you wearing tonight?” I lift her into my arms and carry her toward her bedroom.
“Unicorns.” She caresses my earlobe, something she’s done since she was a baby. “No. Mermaids.” She pauses. “Maybe rainbows.”
This is our nightly routine. She rattles off every nightgown in her collection, unable to make a decision. It doesn’t bother me. I want to keep her this age forever, arguing over unicorns and mermaids instead of boys.
“How about your princess nightgown?”
Her face brightens. “Yes. Princesses. That’s what I want.” She bounces in my arms.
I get her changed quickly, a task I’ve somehow mastered since Marissa died. Tate doesn’t always make it easy, usually wiggling or getting sidetracked by some shiny object in her room.
I toss her tiny dress into the dirty clothes basket as she twirls in a circle. “Climb into bed, and I’ll grab a book.”
She leaps into bed, sliding across the sheets. “I want the kangaroo book,” she tells me, bossy as usual.
Right up until the very moment she closes her eyes, the girl is full of attitude.
I stretch out next to her, grabbing the kangaroo book from the nightstand as she curls into my side. “Close your eyes, baby.” I open to the first page and start to read until she pokes me in the chest.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, bug.” I kiss her forehead, wishing I could keep her this small forever.
